Spoils of the War

Chapter Four

The sun beat down mercilessly, scorching every inch of burnt, peeling skin that were not covered by Caitriona's mud-stained dress.  Her muscles ached from the labor of the past few days, and new blisters formed on top of old as she continued to dig onion after onion out of the sun-baked earth.

She wondered momentarily what Elric would have thought of her, sweating and mud-splattered in the middle of an onion field, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it arose.  Her husband had been gone for the last three years, and she would find no joy in dredging up his memory and wishing that he would return home safe from the war.

Instead, the future Duchess counted onions as she pulled them from the ground and tucked them, one after the other, into the basket that hung from her waist.

When the basket was too heavy to bear any longer, Cait brought the load to the empty field that lay alongside the onion rows, dumping them out into the bright sunshine where the ruddy-faced farmer sat braiding the stems together to form long rows.

"I think that's nearly the last of them, Maggie" Cait announced, rubbing the aching muscles in her arms.  "There's perhaps half a row left."

The older woman nodded, her fingers flying back and forth as she picked up another onion and joined it into the long braid.  "Thanking you very much, milady," she said softly.  "I don't think I woulda managed without your help, y'see."

Cait couldn't help but smile proudly at the woman's thanks; it was lovely to be useful, and even lovelier for someone to acknowledge it.

"We must do what we can to support each other," she replied.  "And it is far more useful for me to be here than in the manor alone."

Truly, the manor had been nearly deserted each summer and autumn since the war began.  With almost every able-bodied man serving in the wars, any servants or cooks were sent out to help tend and manage fields.  The harvests were shared between the farmers themselves and the Duchy, which continued to send supplies to the warfront as often as possible.

Maggie nodded again as she set down one braid, nearly four feet long, and began another.  Cait had not helped the farmers in past seasons, but when the childless farmer's widow had come to the manor to beg for help, no one else seemed to pay any mind to her pleas.  

Rage still bubbled in Cait's heart as she recalled the manner in which Beldon, Elric's younger brother, had turned Maggie away with a curt retort about how the widow would simply have to manage on her own and make sacrifices as everyone else had.

"You would leave her to starve, leave her harvest to rot in the fields?  Why, because she is a woman?  Or because she has no value now that she has no children of her own?" Cait had demanded of her younger brother-in-law, who had only sighed and turned away at her anger.  "I will help her, then, if no one else will!"

Her anger against Beldon, who busied himself riding horses and drinking while Elric was at war, had kept her from uttering a single word of complaint the last few weeks, even though her back and legs screamed in agony every day when she woke.

"I may be off now, Maggie," Cait said with a smile.  "I would like to be back home before dinner.  Would you be able to manage the last bit on your own, or shall I return tomorrow?"

The old woman shook her head, though her eyes stayed focused on the onion stalks that twisted between her fingers.  "No, m'lady.  You've helped me very much, y'see, so I wouldn't want you to bother no more."

"It's been no bother at all, I promise," Cait lied brightly.  "And should you need anything else, please ask someone at the manor for me rather than speaking with Beldon."